


Oblivion

by eerieryoko



Series: BAKT Week 2k17 [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Blindfolds, Breathplay, Consensual Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink, Rope Bondage, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 14:26:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11716242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eerieryoko/pseuds/eerieryoko
Summary: "The state of being unaware or unconscious of what is happening."





	Oblivion

**Author's Note:**

> BAKT Week Day 1: Hunger
> 
>  
> 
> This is unbeta'd and unedited.

He can feel it, the familiar itch in his fingertips. His wrists twitch against the restraints, his skin turning an irritated red after rubbing against the rope for so long. He whines, nearly jumping out of his skin when there’s a cool palm pressed to his bare thigh.

“Can you feel us, watching you?”

Keiji’s breath is hot against his ear, so close yet still out of reach. And he  _ can  _ feel them watching. He can’t see them, no, not with fabric tied across his eyes. But their gazes are heavy, only adding to the weight low in his gut.

He knows Keiji’s close, he never strays more than an arm's length away at any time. He stays close enough to be able to read Koutarou’s face and movements, just in case. Tetsurou’s probably lounging on the bed, trying but failing to keep from palming himself through his shorts. He’s never had the best self-control or patience, but he more than makes up for it with his passion and talent. 

Then there’s Kei. Sweet, stubborn Kei. He can imagine him perfectly: perched on the armchair tucked into the corner of their bedroom, fiddling incessantly with the settings on his camera. Reminds him of when Kei introduced himself, covered in sweat and cradling his precious camera. Years ago, when he preferred to capture them on film instead of sharing the stage with them.

Keiji squeezes, his nails biting into the soft skin of Koutarou’s inner thigh. “What’re you smiling for?” Kou gulps, squirming on his seat to distract himself from how Keiji’s frustrated tone is affecting him. “Did I say you could enjoy yourself yet?”

There’s teeth on his earlobe and a  _ tug  _ and-

Keiji moves away as quickly as he attacked, never sticking around to give Kou any real pleasure.

A small rush of air passes by him, only teasing his flushed skin with a false promise of relief. He can’t help but sigh and relax back into the hands that are suddenly on his shoulders. Large, warm hands calloused from years of volleyball, then years of plucking guitar strings.

“No reason to be so mean, Keijiii~” The hands are moving, working deftly on a series of knots in his shoulders. Kou’s been tense since before they even went on stage. “You’ve been good, haven’t you?” Tetsurou’s voice is like velvet, caressing his ear as he melts into the touch. “You even helped those other bands haul up their equipment. So good,” he squeezes Kou’s sore biceps, “so strong.”

Kou nods, his throat too dry to speak. He can’t even think of words right now anyway, hyper aware of each touch and sound around him. Tetsurou pauses his massage, leaning down to drape his arms around Kou’s broad chest.

“Not to mention, you were so brilliant on stage. People can’t help but look at you, you know? I don’t blame them a bit, I mean, look at you.” Koutarou’s panting, head swimming, the praise Tetsurou gives him repeating tenfold in his mind. "However," he keens as Tetsurou bites down on his shoulder, more pressure than necessary to leave a mark.

“You’re ours.” Tetsurou’s voice turns feral, a snarl in his throat as he wraps a hand around Koutarou’s neck. The pressure is forceful but comfortable. Kou feels tears wet the corners of his eyes, from either the stimulation of the touch or the possessiveness in Tetsurou’s actions and words. 

Keiji hums in agreement, using a single fingertip to trace Kou’s collar bone, down his sternum, then circling his right nipple. He leans into the touch, his arms pulled taut behind him, white stars erupting behind his eyelids. 

“Enough.”

Koutarou takes a ragged breath as Tetsurou’s hand falls away immediately at the command. Keiji is slower to move away, but he eventually complies and stops his teasing.

Kou feels very alone, isolated on his chair, wrists bound behind his back to the seat of the chair and each ankle bound to a wooden leg. For the first time he wishes he could reach up and wrench the blindfold off. He fidgets, yearning to be touched. He misses the pressure from Tetsurou’s hands, the reassurance from Keiji’s strokes. A primal hunger pulses through him, electrifying each and every one of his nerves.

The sound of soft footsteps pulls him from his mental retreat. A cool hand cups his cheek, tilts his head back, kisses him briefly on the lips. Kei chuckles as he watches Koutarou whine and follow after him as he pulls away. He takes Kou’s face between his hands, running his thumbs across his cheekbones.

“Are you ready?” Kei asks, tugging on the wrist restraints.

How long has it been? Kou always enters this timeless void when he’s like this. He trusts Kei though, and if he’s suggesting it’s time to wrap things up he’ll agree.

Kou nods, his tongue too thick to form any coherent words. After a moment his wrists are freed. Kei brings them up to his face, making sure there’s not damage, then gives each a quick peck and places them in Kou’s lap. 

Next is the blindfold. Kou blinks, making out the shapes of his boyfriends in the dim light. Keiji is seated on the bed, one hand in Tetsurou’s hair, watching Kei and Koutarou with rapt attention. Tetsurou is seated behind Keiji, arms tight around his waist and mouth leaving blatant marks along Keiji’s neck. Keiji winces and gives a sharp tug when Tetsurou’s teeth dig in again. Tetsurou looks up and growls appreciatively when he catches Koutarou watching.

He’s pulled away from the scene of the bed, coming face to face with Kei. There’s a slight frown on his face and he clicks his tongue under his breath. “Pay attention to  _ me _ , Koutarou.” Kou nods, taking in every emotion of Kei’s face. His bottom lip is bruised, most likely from Kei chewing on it, and there’s a faint blush along his cheeks.

Kou pulls Kei forward with too much intensity, throwing Kei off balance. Kou misses his target, gleefully giving Kei a wet kiss on the underside of his chin. Kei clicks his tongue again, his blush deepening, and pushes Kou back until he’s sitting flush against the chair again.

“Be good.” Kou twitches at the assertive tone, watching with wide eyes as Kei drops to his knees between his legs. He grips the seat of the chair, watching as Kei leans forward. He pauses, close enough Kou can feel his breath on his bare head. Kei furrows his brows and looks up at Kou. “Well?”, he smirks. “You have hands, now  _ use them _ .”

Koutarou doesn’t hesitate, grabbing a fistful of Kei’s hair and thrusting up. Kei goes pliant around him, easily taking each forceful jerk and thrust. Kou mumbles incoherently as Kei swallows him down, saliva dripping down his chin. It’s almost too much, too wet, too hot, too overwhelming for his throbbing senses.

He comes apart all too soon, curling in on himself when Kei pulls away. Kei stays on his knees, rubbing up and down Kou’s calves and untying the final two restraints. A pair of lean arms heft Kou up from behind and haul him over to the bed. Keiji, eyes dazed and glassy, takes his hand for a moment before straddling him.

He brings Kous hand up to his mouth, taking two of his fingers into his mouth and rolling his tongue up. “Sorry, did you think we were done already?” Tetsurou’s teasing, his eyes glinting as he licks his lips. The hunger thrums through Koutarou’s veins again.

**Author's Note:**

> Can you tell I'm super weak for bokutsuki ok bye~
> 
> Yell @ me: [here](http://s-ierra.tumblr.com)  
> <3


End file.
